Stockholm Syndrome
by Moth Gypsy
Summary: In which sympathy is bestowed where it does not belong. Itachi, Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura centric. Ongoing vignettes, rating and content subject to change.
1. Gradual Distortion

Title: A Gradual Distortion

Disclaimer: I do not own any of it.

Notes: this might become a series. Because I have a lot of thoughts on the little things involving the Uchiha family. I was inspired to write this when reading a fic that mentioned Itachi's blindness, but the idea that ended up being strongest for me (one that Ive had for some time) was the question of how the Uchiha family would have dealt with blindness, which I would imagine was quite common. Also, I would like to remind my readers (and most certainly myself) that Itachi, in many ways, was still a child.

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Going blind wasn't a sudden thing. It wasn't painful, alarming, apparent. He doesn't even remember when it first started to happen. Just that one day, an ordinary day, things he would normally have seen with perfect clarity, were a bit hazy. Letters on pages lacked the sharp edge which let the mind skip over them so easily, peoples faces seemed farther and farther away, the range of his peripheral vision became smaller.

If he had survived the Uchiha clan a few more years, he would have been told about the blindness. It wasn't something they discussed openly, was in fact treated like something dirty, secret, like a coming of age sexuality. As soon as it set in, the shinobi was "removed" from the line of duty. Quiet, low-key. Disappearances were common, and therefore went unquestioned.

Of course he was disturbed, but he had suspected for some time that it would happen. When it accelerated beyond his control, and he could sense his ability to function in everyday life deteriorating, he was afraid. Really, truly afraid, like he hadn't been since the first time he'd been told to kill. And at night, before he passed out after hours of restlessness, he prayed that Sasuke would get to him before someone else did.

Things were clear when he slept. His dreams (nightmares) began to seem more real than his waking hours, and when he woke he still expected things to focus after the initial blurriness of sleep. They never did.

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	2. Spectrum

Title: Spectrum

Notes: another little bunny that's been running around in my head for some time, and a particularly depressing one. I think it happened :F

I'm still not quite sure if this series is going to be purely Uchiha related, or involving Sakura and Naruto as well.

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Sasuke is six, and he runs through the house on stick legs, careening around corners, delighting in his own reckless ability. Fugaku is gone, Itachi is gone, but mother is still there, in the kitchen, humming and it's the most natural thing in the world for Sasuke to runs into her and bury his face in her skirts.

Mikoto smiles at him and carefully wipes off the blade she'd been using to slice vegetables. After setting it down she places her hands on her sons shoulders. He grins up at her, eliciting an even wider smile of her own, and then he runs again, off down the hallway and out around the house. Another woman might be concerned, might yell after their child to slow down, lest they hurt themselves. Not Mikoto, wife of Fugaku, head of the clan, mother of Itachi, a prodigal son. A _shinobi_ herself, there is never a fear of hurt from such trivial things.

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The sun crests in the sky, cicadas increase their never ending rhythm. Sasuke wears himself out, at length, and sits on the porch with a popsicle hanging idly from his mouth. He is six, but after winding down his expression turns contemplative, his thoughts inwards, the new stillness of his limbs suggesting a quality of deep knowledge. And what more is there to know than the feeling of family, and the subsequent feeling of loneliness?

He finishes the popsicle and grinds the stick between his teeth, as though to suck out the last drops of flavor. The woods tastes sour and he throws it in the grass.

"Sasuke," mother stands behind him, disapproving, "go pick that up."

"It tastes bad."

"So? You can't just throw it on the ground." Hands on her hips, she raises an eyebrow.

Sasuke decides that he likes that expression, storing it for later to try on his own. He picks up the stick and runs inside to throw it away. Mikoto is sitting at the table, resting after finishing the preparations for the evening meal. Sasuke sits across from her, on his knees, elbows on the table like he knows she hates. But it's not dinner time, so the rules don't _really_ apply.

She glances at his arms but doesn't say anything. instead she sets her own elbow on the table, resting her chin on her palm.

Unlike Itachi, Sasuke isn't prone to silences. He likes to talk, to listen to others talk, he likes the motion that words create in the air. And there is something he has wanted to say for awhile now. Only, he isn't sure what the right words are. He's heard some, like _Obligation, _and _Responsibility,_ and the learning part of him connects those words to his dilemma, but he doesn't understand them well enough to feel confident in their use.

Mikoto is watching him, kindly, and he knows that she is waiting for him to speak. After all, it is something his mother does, listening to what he has to say.

"I have a secret." quiet, almost a whisper, and too serious for a little boy.

"Oh? Well you know Sasuke_-chan_, I'm very good at keeping secrets."

He rests his hands in front of him, pressing his knuckles together. Mikoto tucks a falling lock of hair behind her ear, and waits for him to continue.

"I…" he swallows and looks down at his hands. His entire frame is huddled, shoulders close together, hiding his stomach beneath the table. "I don't want to be a _shinobi._"

Silence. He looks up beneath his bangs to meet his mothers light stare. Her mouth hangs open slightly, her face has drawn back.

"Oh," delicate, startled, a girls expression of surprise. And Sasuke knows that he has said the wrong thing. He wants to run and hide and cry and crawl under the table and disappear, all at the same time. Instead he looks down, face burning, and waits for mother to scold him.

She stands and circles over to his side. He flinches when she places a heavy hand on his shoulder, and he tries to decipher the meaning behind it, friendly or accusatory. It is not a feeling he ever wants to receive from anyone he is so close to, least of all his mother.

"Sasuke," she starts, but doesn't seem to know how to finish. She tries again. "Sasuke, it isn't something any of us want. But it is our birthright. It is a great privilege."

She gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze and then exits the room. He thinks that she is running away from him, and feels ashamed. Later he will reevaluate the definition of the word "privilege," as something that can only be said with a tone of loneliness.

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	3. Perspective

Title: Perspective

Note: hate is such a strong word o..o i kind of understand that now. also, yeah.

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During the time between when he first learns the truth, and the time when his true revenge is exacted, Sasuke does a lot of thinking. It's crazy thinking, disjointed, hot and cold and dreamlike. At night he imagines telling Naruto about it, at first, he imagines the idiot's idiot response. Then he imagines it again, and again, until it's every night, and he no longer thinks of the exchange with contempt. After weeks of playing the scenario in his head, the image shifts, and Naruto becomes a welcome force. He thinks that the blonde would sympathize with him, outraged in his own fashion at the injustice of it all. He imagines that Naruto would side with him and maybe they would stand together.

After months of this feverish dream, Sasuke begins to forget that the idiot doesn't know any of it. At first he reminds himself that explanations still have to be made, but in keeping such an internal repertoire, those explanations become moot. Then he is only left with the obsession of finding him, of taking the village, of avenging the clan.

Finding Naruto. Sasuke smiles in the dark.

During the day he has no expression. Karin and Suigetsu still orbit around him though, leaning closer and then pulling back as though attracted by a gravitational force. The four of them travel on, getting closer and closer, and a new contempt builds in him. He shoves everyone away, and in his most personal thoughts there is only Naruto.

Before the end they fight. When the village lays in shambles, smoking heaps of rubble exuding dying breaths, Naruto lunges at him with teeth and claws and feral, hate filled eyes. This is not what Sasuke expected. He expected confrontation, yes and knew it wouldn't be easy, nothing ever is ever easy with them. But not this. Not this open hostility. Not when for so long the other had followed him with that lost expression and nervous fists.

And all at once he's angry, face twisted into a perfect mask ferocity, and they both dive in an attempt to wrestle the other to the ground. Hands flashing, teeth bared, they tear flesh from bone and are lost in the overwhelming aura they create.

Before either of them can emerge victorious, Sasuke has a second of lucidity. He no longer knows why they are fighting. And at some point, vital and obscure, he has lost perspective of the situation.

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	4. Time and Motion

Title: Time and(bent) Motion

Notes: I had a lot of thoughts on this one… but then I forgot them. I'm still debating whether or not to start another series for relationship vignettes, and keep this one purely sketchy. And wow, this is depressing, even for me. But fear not dear readers –pets- the next one is pure fluff~

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The average life span of a ninja depends on his village, and its politics. Shortened life expectancies are not a concern, however; the younger the shinobi, the more loyal, and more malleable, and less likely to defect. Also the more likely to reproduce in the chaos of the front lines. Strong bloodlines are formed from the conjoining of warriors.

Conversely, in a village like Konoha which knows war perhaps once in a decade, the life expectancy is high. It is not uncommon for men to reach late twenties (considered old then,) and become complacent. The Elders understand this, and in an attempt to stimulate growth, like pruning a tree, they instigate conflict.

In war it is the abundance of willing _gennin_ and _chuunin_ who survive, and go on to become the new _jounin _and _Anbu. _The old ones die out, or go insane, or disappear, only to show up years later in the bingo books. The majority of them die. As pure as the bloodlines are, it seems like nasty things like blindness and insubordination inspired by the degradation of the mind are unavoidable.

And bloodlines mean everything. At birth a record is created- name, clan, sex, marked physical traits. From these things is estimated a period of bodily endurance, or life expectancy. For names like Haruno and Uzumaki, that number is thirteen. For a name like Uchiha, Sasuke Uchiha, male, healthy eyes, strong lungs, son of Fugaku Uchiha, that number is more like eighteen. Other members of the Uchiha clan, ones from lesser houses, project higher numbers than this, most ranging in the high twenties. This is because the purer the blood runs, like a more highly concentrated alcohol, the quicker it is to burn.

These are averages, though. And all too often shinobi outlive their expectancies. Like men fated to die, they somehow survive to create an alternate world in which their only objective is to continue avoiding their demise. Naruto is one of these, and Sakura, and Kakashi. And they can know in the most personal of ways that Sasuke is rapidly approaching his own end. Only, unlike them, he has always been one for following tradition.

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	5. Complementary

Title: Contrast

Notes: okay so I lied :c this one isn't all fluff, but its mostly fluff- dark fluff? I tried writing it nice, but a bunch of nasty foreshadowing managed to sneak its way in –beats foreshadows with a stick- o Ao

Also, sorry it took so long. I ended up getting really sick, and currently Im so behind in my college classes I might have to drop out this semester. So Im not feeling too inspired to write, at the moment. All that aside, this is dedicated to the first snow of the season (:

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Despite the wind chill it doesn't get overly cold in the wintertime. Snow is a rare occurrence in Konoha, happening only about as often as war. The first time the members of team seven see snow (the first happy time, that is), it's on the way back from a grueling mission in Suna. To say the least, the temperature change is startling. The desert was cold at night but they didn't have to brave that wasteland- they packed only light clothes.

Upon reentering the village, Sasuke is the first to notice it, Sakura is the first to say anything, and Naruto is the first to run, whooping and hollering through the streets. Kakashi chuckles at their antics. He's seen enough of the white powdery stuff in his life to hold negative connotations to it. He doesn't deny them their joy, though. Sakura, despite her general air of disapproval towards Naruto, exudes her own childish excitement, and even Sasuke is watching the sky with a vague fascination.

The cold sets in fast, and soon they're walking closer together, hurriedly towards the point where they will go their separate ways. Kakashi isn't sure why he offers, but he suddenly feels the need to prolong the moment.

"There's this café up the street. I hear they serve great cocoa." He continues walking, hands shoved deep into pockets, and glances at his students from the corner of his eye. Both Sakura and Naruto gaze at him in surprise, then renewed excitement. Sasuke shrugs. Kakashi's one eye curves in a hidden smile. "Great."

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Once they're all seated at the bar, Naruto loudly exclaims that cocoa isn't as good as Ramen, earning him several stares from the other patrons, and a strained smile from the girl at the counter. Sakura rolls her eyes and examines the menu, turning after a few minutes to ask Sasuke what he's interested in.

Kakashi is the first to order, a hot bittersweet chocolate with rum, earning him a suspicious stare from Naruto. Sasuke follows suit, ordering a virgin style of Kakashi's drink. Naruto is still squinting at the menu so Sakura goes next, ordering a butterscotch chocolate with a wafer stick.

There is an unspoken consensus among them that if the blonde asks for Ramen flavored cocoa, blood will be shed. "Okay, I know what I want." Naruto gave the barista a look that said _prepare yourself_, and then commenced to order, in all seriousness, "I want the number two, only with extra cool whip, and a couple of those little crunchy stick thingies that Sakura got, and chocolate sprinkles added (not the rainbow ones), and a layer of hot chocolate sauce on top."

"Naruto!" Sakura yelled, "This isn't a free for all!"

"Really," Kakashi added, hands held up in defense, "I'm still paying for all of this."

Naruto gave them an indignant look. "You said I could order_ anything _I wanted."

"Umm, sir?" The girl taking their order leaned forward timidly, obviously not used to such rambunctious patrons. "We don't actually have… hot chocolate sauce."

"_What!?"_

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When the chaos that ensued finally died down, and hot chocolate had been consumed, and stomach aches had been had, the members of team seven sat in a warmly lit corner, silently watching the snow fall outside. It hadn't taken long for the sky to darken, the encroaching snow clouds blotting out the twilight. Naruto rested his chin on the table, alternately studying Sasuke and Sakura across from him, and the cold window.

Unfortunately it wasn't quite cold enough for any of the snow to stick, but it looked nice before it hit the ground. And it was warm inside the cocoa shop

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	6. In The Round

GM: ^_________^ so I reeeeally like this one, and for the first fic I've ever done from Sakura's POV, I'm rather proud of myself.

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The world is made of concrete forms, facts and stipulations and rules set down by parents, teachers, patriarchs. Sakura's world is made of buildings, her home, the academy, the lean-to stalls of the farmer's market in between the solid restaurant and shopping establishments. Konoha is her world, and her world is surrounded by a giant wall.

As a child that wall was all encompassing, the world beyond a mystery seldom glimpsed. But she wondered, and she sat eagerly at her grandfather's side and listened to stories of his youth, as a _shinobi_ who traveled _beyond. _That was, for a long time, her synonym for everything she didn't know. _Beyond._

When she was nine Iruka took the class on a field trip to the outskirts of the village, they traveled through an underground tunnel meant for escapes. She was told that if the village were ever attacked, this is where she would go. In the weeks that's followed she heatedly imagined an invasion- her and her class mates, terrified, would file through the dark tunnels, holding hands and bundles of supplies from the school- food and blankets, first aid kits. And then they would be out- forced to explore the surrounding forest, perhaps camping in a glade of ancient maples, hidden between roots like the toes of giants.

That particular fantasy occupied her for months.

When she joined team seven at the age of twelve, and they were assigned their first real mission, she had been ecstatic. When Naruto made an unprecedented amount of noise and tugged her sleeve in excitement, she'd struggled not to grin, his enthusiasm contagious. It had taken all of her will power not to run on ahead of them. It was only when they had been walking for several hours, and her feet were tired and she no longer cared whether their client liked her or not, that she began to feel nervous.

The word _beyond_ came back to her, and despite her curiosity, there was doubt. "Kaka-sen…" she had asked, trying to keep the apprehension from showing. "Will there be other _shinobi_ in the place we are going?"

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After that her world expanded until the wall that held it all in was an ocean, and the outskirts an unforgiving desert. At the center of everything stood Konohagakure. At a nameless intersection, a plain, two story house. Inside her parents waiting for her with open arms. Sakura's world was made of concrete forms.

But some of them, some of them hovered at her peripherals, ambiguous shapes that she never dwelt on. One of those shapes, one that in later years would obsess her, was the old Uchiha compound. When she was nine and Sasuke was re-introduced to the class after several months in the hospital, she glimpsed the compound and understood that that was where he lived. For years after that she assumed in an unconscious manner that Sasuke had never stopped living there. So, when one night after a grueling D-class mission, she walked Sasuke to his house, she was startled to find him living in a filing box apartment with gray paint and gray windows and gray gray gray. He climbed the few steps to his door, a ground level one, and gave her a dismissive look. It was a look that barely veiled desperation and uncertainty. As though he just didn't know how to tell her to go away. As though he didn't know she could tell how much her presence bothered him.

She had been so shocked, remembering during their silent walk together as she noted that they were in the wrong district, it had simply never occurred to her before that he lived alone in a tiny apartment somewhere.

The next day she went to their usual meeting place, the red bridge before the training grounds. Naruto was the only one there. She wanted to ask him if he had known about Sasuke, but she felt it would be a strange thing to ask right out. "Hey Naruto, what kind of house do you live in?"

"Eh?"

"I mean, I'm curious, you know? I think if we're a team, we should know these things about each other."

"Oh," he grinned widely and she desperately hoped he didn't interpret it as a come on. "I live in an apartment, it's just a block away from Ichiraku's! Isn't that convenient? I can go get ramen almost whenever I want."

For a second time she was shocked. But then, Konoha _didn't_ have an orphanage, she'd know if they did. She had never thought of Sasuke as an orphan. He had a family, they were just… dead. Naruto was the orphan- the snotty brat with no manners and only three sets of clothing. Why did they live in apartments?

Why, when she had a house, and a mom and dad waiting for her to come home?

"Naruto?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

"Heh? What for?"

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She never asked Sasuke about the compound, but she heard rumors over the years. People said it was haunted, that ritual sacrifices had been performed there. People said it was completely empty except for the main house, which was lit up once a year on the anniversary of the massacre. If she listened, she could hear all sorts of things about the place, and she wondered what kept the Elders from tearing it down to make room for a new police station, or houses, or stores. She wondered why Sasuke didn't live there, or even Naruto, or maybe all the orphans of the village. And years later, when Sasuke had gone away and everyone knew deep down that he was never coming back, that's when she started to hear people talking again.

They spoke about renovating it, filling the area in with apartments.

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	7. Remembrancer

http:// www . onemanga . com/Naruto/51/01/

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Kakashi still prays, even after everything.

He prays at the village shrine, his hands held respectively. Sometimes he even gives offerings, if there's anything of interest in his pockets. He should bring rice cakes or money, but money is tight, and his kitchen is bare.

He prays when it rains and he is reminded of the mission when Obito sunk into the mud, and he and Rin spent an hour digging the boy out. He prays when the Hokage insists upon assigning him team after team, and after one finally catches his attention. He prays when he realizes their potential, and just how frightened he is of them. He prays during the _chuunin_ exams, because he can sense that something will go horribly wrong. He prays when Sasuke leaves and he can't feel any particular concern for Sakura or Naruto.

He prays at the village shrine, eyes downcast, hands held respectively. He reflects upon all of his mistakes, his misgivings, the things that went wrong, how he has never been good enough to stop them from dying. From leaving him.

He long ago stopped recognizing the statues of gods. His prayers don't consist of words, so much as memories, and his offerings are only from the need to let go of things. As though he could punish himself for all of his wrongdoings.

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	8. Fast

MG: FFN is being retarded, and deleting random word chunks. I think it might be part of a new program to get rid of some of the illiteracy that runs rampant on this site, but in my case a lot of the red underlined words are misused on _purpose, _and I don't appreciate them being deleted. Also, like, a lot of them are japanese, so of course they wouldn't show up in ye old Webster. I am not happy about this. Also, even though I wrote it, I keep misreading the last line as 'Naruto needs to eat normal people.'

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Naruto eats a lot. The Kyuubi's metabolism runs fast. Ramen is pure carbohydrates, and it's cheap, so it goes fast. It's merely convenient that it's also his favorite food.

His stomach always growls on long missions. The C and D level ones are almost preferable, because he can pack a full lunch, or even stop at Ichiraku's. But of course, 'Because I get hungry' isn't a plausible excuse, and after awhile he is just is over qualified.

When they do travel far, he is equipped with protein pills, and freeze dried tofu, and sometimes forced to scavenge for food.

**Mission:** A Class

**Location:** South _Ta no Kuni_

**Objective:** Retrieve Stolen Silver Seal

**Additional Notes:** May have to take detour through Forest of Death, regular patrol on main roads. May have to forage for food. Edible substances native to _Ta no Kuni _of note; Accai berries, St. John's Wort root, Ginko Nuts.

The pills and packaged foods that induce constipation for a _shinobi's_ own convenience (after all, they usually end up drinking from the streams, which in turn causes diarrhea), they just aren't enough for him. While the others grow lean and plow on valiantly through grumbling tummies, Naruto can _feel_ the little fat he has managed to build up disappearing. And, after any longer than a week, he can feel the _muscle_ itself burning, and it _hurts._

Sasuke never noticed. At least, Naruto doesn't think he did. _If _he did, he never said anything. Although, he would occasionally (towards the beginning of the end) give Naruto strange looks, like he could tell that something was _off._

Sakura would later remark with a casual wave of her delicateroughbeautiful hand that it was fortunate that Naruto was so _thin_, she could never eat like him and maintain her lithe physique.

Looking back on it, Naruto thinks that Kakashi always knew. Because he gave the same looks that Sasuke did, only his were mixed with weariness and understanding and something horribly, terrifyingly close to pity.

When the others plough on through empty stomachs, Naruto ploughs on through fire. When Kakashi gives him those looks, he pretends not to notice, and smiles extra in hopes that it'll all just _go-away-go-back-to-normal-please-please-please _because if the man really cared he would _do_ something, like he almost did something for Sasuke, like he really did something for his old teammates.

Naruto needs to eat more than normal people.


	9. It's Not All Chiaroscuro

[And damn it all to hell,

I'm still waiting for her to prove them _**wrong**__._]

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Despite the promise that Sasuke showed from an early age, and the potential that everyone knew _deep down inside where no one wants to look _that Naruto held great potential, it was Sakura whom the Elders placed their favor in.

More than anything, they considered Sasuke a mistake. When they convened in dimly lit chambers, high above the ramshackle housing of the village- When they gathered to speak in rooms with lavish furniture and silken drapes and air hung with cloying, red incense from the east- it was always mentioned (at first heatedly, then in passing, and finally as a footnote of minor duress) what should be done about the little _Uchiha problem. _None of them were supposed to survive. The job was unclean, Itachi had not been trustworthy, as much as the_ Hokage_ had insisted that he was a perfect _shinobi_.

Itachi had left the village with blood drying on the edges of his clothes, turning them stiff, and a threat of vengeance on his too young lips:

Sasuke was not to be touched.

And they had not. In the same vein that they had not harmed the little boy named Naruto. From the time when the _kitsune_ was bound inside the infant's body, they had debated fiercely how to deal with him. On many occasions they had come close to banishing the boy from the village completely. In the end, what stayed their hand of judgment was the fear of a public backlash. While the majority of the villages inhabitants still carried scars of fear and avoided the cursed child like disease, several of the higher ranking _shinobi_ still remembered the sacrifice of love which protected them. The sacrifice which allowed them to carry on in peace and health, and just _who the whiskered boy really was_ still sometimes pulled at their hearts.

The Elders were not blind to the boys plight. Indeed, they saw how he struggled to learn the things which other children were taught by family and physical touch. They saw the way he desperately reached out for attention, how he gazed in longing at those whom he viewed as possessing what he lacked.

And they saw, too, the last Uchiha child grow cold and quiet. They watched as Sasuke became estranged and volatile, how his consternation for his peers grew, and in particular, Naruto.

Finally, they saw Sakura. A girl from a useless name, a family with no outstanding qualities. Parents who lived a life a slow contentment, and worried over their only child. Parents who made sure she always had a perfect _bento_ everyday, and shoes with bows and socks with kittens embroidered round the top. A girl who had never lost anyone, and with not enough instinct left in her blood to kill a rat.

When the time came to place the young _gennin_ in groups "based on compatibility of character, blood, and capability…" the Elders grinned twisted grins of old age and black, rotted teeth. They would not touch the last Uchiha, nor the _jinchuuriki._ They wouldn't have to.

And poor Sakura, they knew she would not survive between the two embittered boys. Despite her potential and mental acuity, they knew she was not strong enough to support a working relationship, one which would keep them alive in the dangerous situations which such a team would surely, inexplicably, find itself in. Despite the promise that Sasuke showed from an early age, and the potential that everyone knew _deep down inside where no one wants to look _that Naruto held great potential, it was Sakura whom the Elders placed their favor in.

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End file.
